Child of the Sea
by Enyo14
Summary: We all know the affair between Davy Jones and Tia Dalma. But what we don't know is the secret she hid, even from the great Jones himself: Their daughter Zara. Abandoned as a child and raised by gypsies, Zara sets to find her father, the heartless Jones.
1. Strange Dreams

**A/N: Zara has very few memories of her past. All she can remember is three things: a ship, a green flash, and a musical locket. That's all she can remember up until the age of four, when the gypsies found her. Zara doesn't know who her real mother is, who her father is, and who she really is. But that's all about to change. One night, Zara has a stranger dream about a ship called the Flying Dutchman. Soon, Zara is taken on journey to find out who her real parents are, but more importantly, who she is. Will her destiny parallel that of her heartless father's, or that of her crazed mother's? Only the path that lies ahead of Zara can tells. And her three memories: a ship, a green flash, and a musical locket.**

**(my first movie fanfic. Hope you guys like it!)**

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><p>Strange Dreams<p>

The waves extended up to ten feet. The rage of the sea was like a monster unleashed from Hell. And in the middle of it all, a poor ship was caught in its madness. The crew of the ship worked hard and prayed that the ship's fate wouldn't end with this storm. For a while, the ship sailed through the waves, rocking side-to-side as it got hit, but never going under. For a moment, the ships and its crew seemed to be spared of the sea's power.

But suddenly, emerging from the depths of the waves something worse than Neptune's fury itself came. Looking like the jaw of a shark from a distance, a ship came from the water's waves, and just like the waves it showed no mercy in taking down the innocent ship that floated on the surface of the waters. The ship, the tip of it made to look like a shark with its mouth wide open and covered in barnacles, headed towards the ships at sea. At command, the cannons fired, taking down the ships, and most of the crew.

Standing at the wheel of the ship was a tall figure with a long cloak swaying in the wind and a captain's hat on. He had a long beard, only it seemed to be moving, like little worms. Slowly, he turned his head as if to look at someone.

My eyes opened wide. Sunlight sneaked in through the cracks of floorboards on the deck. I sat up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. Another weird ship dream? Honestly, what was going on? Thirteen years I never had these dreams, but now suddenly, starting on my fourteenth birthday I begin to have them. I haven't told anyone of them. Until I was sure it wasn't just the cause of some bad food or illness or something, I was just going to say a word.

I heard footsteps coming from the deck. Entering the hold, Kaya came. Her black hair was tied into a long braid that went down her back and seemed to give off it's own shine when the light hit it. Scanning the lower deck, she finally saw me sitting up in my blanket.

She smiled at me, and came running towards me. "Still asleep are we?"

"I was."

She held out a hand. I took it and she pulled me up.

"You better get ready," she warned. "Jethro was upset when you weren't at the meeting this morning."

I rolled my eyes. The man was lucky he was able to meetings. Just because he led our band of gypsies, doesn't mean he was king of England.

Kaya shot me a look when she saw me roll my eyes. "Don't do that! You owe respect to your gypsy leader."

"I owe respect to Anaya, his wife, the woman who took me in when I was a helpless child, while he just wanted to walk right past me because of my paler skin and blue eyes."

That got Kaya quiet. She, in fact no one, dared speak against my founding or why I have paler skin than the other gypsies. I was a little dark, but not the color of fertile soil like Kaya and everyone else was. My skin looked ashy brown. And no matter how many times I stay in the sun, it just doesn't get darker. My blue eyes were a whole other story. Not even I know where those came from. I don't really know anything about myself. All I can remember about my life before the gypsies are three things: A strange green flash in the sky, an old ship that smelled like fish and the depths of the sea, and a musical locket, that when you opened it music would play, and it would stop once you closed it. These are the three very confusing memories of my early childhood. I don't have any recognition of my mother, and I haven't gotten the slightest clue as to whom my father is. Sometimes I ask myself though, would I want to know? I mean, what if they never wanted me? Whenever I ask Anaya if she knew anything, all she tells me is how she found me lost in a port because I had lost my mother. "Lost." She never really "lost" me at all.

Kaya placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry Zara. I just want you to be careful. You may be in favor of Anaya, but in end, it's Jethro who decides whether you stay with us or not."

I nodded. "I know. Thanks for looking out for me, but even if he does kick me out, I can take care of myself ."

"I can't disagree with that," Kaya said as I started to change my clothes. She handed me a fresh skirt as I continued. "You're the best swordswoman out of all of us. You even out beat the boys in archery. No girl was ever skilled enough to beat the boys until you came! And you're strange connection with the sea . . ."

She looked out the small circular window that viewed a clear blue sky and a wide ocean.

"It's strange. Whenever you're mad, it's as if the sea feels the same way. When you're calm, the sea sits still."

Her dark brown eyes met my blue ones. "Don't you find it strange?"

I shrugged. "I find it coincidence, that's all."

Kaya smiled. "Maybe your like a sea spirit or something!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Are you four or something Kaya? That's just crazy. Look, no one controls the sea. The sea is just billons of gallons of water that have been here longer than land has. It's all just nature. Nothing magical about that."

Kaya sighed. "Would it kill you to have an imagination Zara?"

"It just might," I said with a smile.

Once my clothes were on, I headed to the deck with Kaya. Today we were due to go to land-unless Jethro surprisingly changes his mind again. But we needed to sell and perform. It was the only way we earned out money. Performing dances in the streets was one way, selling goods was another. And then there was me; Zara the pickpocket. Even Jethro had to admit that my pickpocket skills were amazing. I just tell them all its luck or something. Really though, how I get the money is strange. When I'm about to pickpocket someone, in my mind, I imagine him or her not noticing me at all, and not feeling my hand in their pocket. And strange enough, it works. I don't know how I do it, but I do it, and I manage to get the money. Though I tell no one of this.

In an hour or two, we reached land. Docking our small ship, the usually gypsies who earned money on the streets got off the ship, me included. I followed Kaya down the ramp that led down to the dock.

Kaya looked beautiful in her jewels, veil, long shirt with red designs on it, and her bare feet with ankle bracelets on them. Me, I just wore a regular skirt and white shirt with a black sash tied around my waist. I was no dancer, or street vender. I was Zara. Heck, I didn't know who Zara was.

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><p>The sun beat down on my back as it rose high. My stomach rumbled with hunger. We didn't have anything to eat this morning; there was no food for us.<p>

Looking around the town, noticed a bakery at the corner of the block I was on. My stomach rumbled again. Counting the coins, I decided I had enough to buy just a small loaf of bread.

I walked to the bakery. As I approached it, there was a group of men standing in front of the window. They were sailors. I could tell by the way they smelled and dressed. I was just about to walk passed them, when I heard something that caught my ear.

"Did y' hear old Bags ramblin' on 'bout the Flying Dutchman?"

Another man laughed, the youngest one. "Aye, I did. Says he saw it sailing about one night after a storm."

"Pickin' up more souls for the captain's crew."

The group of men laughed tighter.

"But do you think such a thing exists?" the youngest one said.

The first one who talked, the oldest one, shrugged. "Couldn't tell ya. And if I could I either be dead or mopping the floors of Dutchman meself."

"But it does sound like a sight to behold, don't it?" another man said.

The oldest man nodded. "Aye yes. Ain't no sight to be seen compared to that of the Dutchman. She's old, really old. Why, with the barnacles growin' on her, she practically like the sea she emerges out of."

I held my breath. This ship, this Flying Dutchman, sounded like the ship I had seen in my dream. Standing a little closer to the men, pretending to look for someone, I listened more to what they had to say.

"She's the fiercest thing in the land," the man continued. "Her entire front is nothing more than an image of shark openin' its mouth to devour its prey. Kind of like that of the Dutchman. Rare you find the Dutchman just sailing around. She stays underwater, like her captain wants her to."

"I heard the captain himself is a tale to be told," said the young man.

"Aye." The old man leaned against the store window. "No captain has ever been more heartless than that of the captain of the Flying Dutchman. If ye ever was come face-to-face with him, it be the Devil himself you be meeting with."

One man mentioned how their ship would leave soon. The group of men began to leave.

Before they were out of site, I quickly tapped the old man who had been telling about the Flying Dutchman on the shoulder.

"Pardon me sir, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with the other young gentlemen. Would you mind telling me who is the captain of the Flying Dutchman?"

The old man smiled, revealing blacked teeth and no teeth at all. "Aye. The captain of that ship be as soulless as a demon. He shows no mercy to anyone who asked for it. Aye, the man cursed to captain that ship is Davy Jones."

I furrowed my brows. Davy Jones. I had never heard of him in my life.


	2. Trying to Remember

Trying to Remember

"Anaya, do you know a man by the name of Davy Jones?"

I came back to the ship and gave Jethro the money I stole. He was so pleased, he said I should relax for the rest of the day. I was surprised by his sudden good mood. Normally, he would tell me to get right back to the streets to get more money. But I didn't question his mood because-one-I didn't feel like stealing for the rest of the day, and-two-there was something about this Flying Dutchman, and the captain, Davy Jones. I knew I've seen both in my dreams.

Anaya looked up from the herbs she was boiling a small pot. "Davy Jones?" Her voice trailed off as she tried to think. She stirred the contents in the pot. "It sounds like a familiar name. But I'm afraid I don't know who that is."

I sat down next to her. "Okay, then how about the Flying Dutchman?"

She stopped stirring.

"You know of it?"

Anaya sighed. She adjusted her red veil on her head. All married woman had to wear veils. I didn't really like the rule. It made it seem like women should hide themselves from the world just because they're married to a man.

"The Flying Dutchman," she said. "Supposedly is some sort of ship that attacks innocent ships at sea. Then the captain takes the survivors and tries to make them part of his crew."

"What happens if they refuse?" I asked.

Anaya blinked. I understood her answer.

"The captain, his name is Davy Jones?"

Anaya snapped her fingers at my question. "That's where I heard his name before! He's captain of the Flying Dutchman." She looked at me funny. "Why are you suddenly asking me these questions?"

I shrugged. "I heard some sailors talking about it. It captured my attention."

Anaya smiled and pinched my cheek. "No use in getting those silly little sailor tales in your head. You're a bright girl Zara." She looked around the ship. "You can do a lot better than this."

She picked up some dirty clothes and went aside to wash them. I walked to the side of the deck, leaning over the rail and looking onto the sea. The crystal blue water rippled as I stared into it. Now that I thought about it, Kaya's words about the sea and me began to sink in.

Scanning the deck to make sure no one was looking, I wiggled my fingers. The water bellow began swish side-to-side, same as my fingers.

I gasped. There was no way that possible. Perhaps I was just imagining?

I made a fist. Then I banged my fist on the railing. The water went up and dropped back down just as I did it.

My knees felt weak. I held on to the railing as I sat down. Surely I was imagining this. There's no possibly way . . . .

I felt scared. I don't know why, but I was. Suddenly the boat began to shake side to side. I could feel my blood go cold.

The gypsies on the ship ran to the sides. They all looked over the railing down the water.

"Look!" A man pointed to the waters. "The waves. They're acting up!"

An old woman shook her head. "So suddenly?"

The man shrugged. "Nature has its reasons."

I ran below deck, suddenly not feeling well. Once below, I ran to corner, away from everyone else. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to think. Now suddenly, it seemed like everything in my life was thrown into a big bag, shaken up, and all mixed up. Like the hand of life just slapped me across the face to wake me up.

No longer could I put this aside: I had to find out my past.

Sitting there alone in the corner, I calmed myself down. I re-positioned myself, sitting crossed-legged in a meditation position. As a child I was taught to meditate to calm my body and soul. Now I was going to do that, and something else.

Once I felt my spirit calm, I relaxed my mind. Then, I began to think of all my memories, for them moment and back. I saw my life backwards in my head. My mini adventures with Kaya running through the towns we visited. Sitting by Anya's side as she told stories of the ancient spirits and how some are doomed to wander the earth forever. Now, as I traced back to my earliest memories, my mind went foggy. The images of me as a small four-year-old were faded. That was the age when Anya found me. I tried hard to remember that day . . .

* * *

><p>The sun was setting just below the horizon when a dark skinned woman in a red and orange foreign-looking dress with a long red cloth covering her head came up to me. I was on the beach. My dress was ripped, covered with dirt and sand, and wet-though how it got like that I don't know.<p>

The woman knelt down to my level so I can look into her face. She had kind brown eyes like warm chocolate. She smiled to me, a smile of pearl-white teeth.

"Little one, where is your mother?"

I started to cry. "I lost my mama."

She took me into her arms, letting me cry on her shoulder. She rubbed her hand gently on my back as I cried. Once I had finished, she asked me my name.

I rubbed my eyes and shrugged. "Zara . . . I think."

The woman laughed. Her laugh wasn't a snobby making-fun-of-someone laugh, it was a curious laugh, an innocent one. To me it sounded like milk and honey.

"Do you like that name?" she asked.

I thought for a second, and nodded. "Yes. A lot actually."

She smiled. "Then that's your name."

Standing up, the woman looked down at me, holding out her hand. "Would you like to meet some of my friends? Maybe they can help you find your mother."

I hesitated for a moment. Then, slowly, I took her hand.

"Where did you last see your mother?"

My mind went blank. Suddenly everything until I met the woman was gone. I couldn't remember a thing, except . . .

"The green light."

The woman looked at me puzzled. "I'm sorry, what?"

"There was a green light . . . a some music-from a locket, I think."

The woman stared down at me, her eyes confused by this information. She petted my hair dark hair. "Come child," she beckoned. "We'll get to the bottom of this."

We walked to the docks. I felt the small particles of the sand under my bare feet, feeling them as they rubbed between my toes. Turning my head, I stared out to the sea. The small waves were tainted orange from the sun's setting rays.

As I gazed to the horizon, that's when I saw it. A ship, all the way out at sea. The tip of it looked like a shark's jaw wide open . . . .

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><p>I jerked forward, my eyes wide opened. All the lanterns were lit below deck. I was lying down on a mat with a blanket covering me. Kaya sat across from me, sewing a rip in a skirt. She noticed how I awakened and put her work down.<p>

"My can the sea make you sleepy."

Sitting up, I felt the familiar feeling of the ground shaking side to side like a rocking cradle. We were at sea again.

"What happened?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Apparently you came down here after coming back to the ship. Anya came to get you for lunch, but she found you asleep. Even Jethro said with the amount of money you brought back, you deserved a little break."

I arched a brow. Wow. Now that was rare. Jethro not only admitting I did well, but rewarding me for it.

Leaning over, I grabbed a pair of dark navy blue pants, probably left by a boy. Here, everyone shared everything so it wouldn't matter if I took them. I changed from my skirt into the pants, leaving on my short white shirt that still reveal my belly even in the pants.

I caught Kaya looking at me as I adjusted the pants. "Can I help you?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Well obviously it's something."

Kaya sighed, leaning back against the wall. "It's just that . . . . girls here don't really wear pants."

I shrugged. "There's no rule against it."

"But still. Girls here . . . When they see you wearing those pants, they it's . . . strange."

I couldn't help but laugh. Kaya was such a girl, no offense to her. "Kaya you must stop thinking like others and start thinking like yourself."

Kaya titled her head to me. "You're very independent Zara."

I shrugged. "I guess."

"My mama always told me independence is something you inherit from your parents."

The lower deck grew, with the exception of a few men and women on the other side. I turned away from her. Walking to a circular window that allowed me to view the ocean, I took in what she said. Could I have really inherited my independence from my parents? It pained my heart as I came to the realization that I would probably never find out.

Looking out at dark sea, its waves of blackness seemed to be rippling rapidly. I couldn't help but think that the sea was trying to tell me something. Like something was coming . . . . here, to my home.

A violent impulse caused the entire ships to jerk to the left, sending me flat against the wall. Kaya collapsed to a mat. I tried to stand up but another hit caused me to go down again. Before another hit could come, I grabbed Kaya's arm and took her to the deck.

On deck, everyone looked to the side of the ship. Anya was near the mask, looking out to sea with worried eyes. I ran to her. She took me into her arms.

"Anya, what was that?" My voice was panicked.

She shook her head. "I don't know child." She ran her fingers through my hear as we studied the uneasy waves that began to form. For a moment the whole world was silent. No one breathed a breath, no baby cried, no woman prayed. We just remained still, waiting to see what the sea would give us.

Jethro came running from his cabin, joining us in our focus on the sea. "What happened?"

No one answered him. No one knew.

A blast came from the waves, and out from the water sprouted a tentacle over a thousand feet high. And before it came crashing down on to our ship, someone screamed, "Kraken!"


End file.
